


First Light

by Malu_3 (Grainne)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Frottage, Fur, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:58:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grainne/pseuds/Malu_3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>His feet were bare, his legs were spread apart, and the morning light easily pierced the thin cloth.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mizufae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizufae/gifts).



> Originally written in 2011 as commentfic for Wldcatsprstr_14's [Frottage Fest](http://wldcatsprstr-14.livejournal.com/86627.html) for [Mizufae's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizufae/profile) prompt: _Arthur/Merlin + up on the parapets, overlooking the bustle of the town._ Set in a hypothetical (at the time) S4.

Running a kingdom was exhausting, surely. But being the runner for the man running the kingdom?

Bloody buggering dead-making, that's what that was. There was hardly a corner of the castle Merlin could crawl into without being found, sent running hither and yon for this or that or the other. And if fetching and carrying and fetching some more for the Prince Regent wasn't bad enough, there were all the new knights.

Merlin adored Gwaine, respected Elyan, admired Lancelot (and had conflicting feelings of arousal and fear where Percy was concerned), but they really, _really_ needed to get their own manservants.

Merlin took a generous gulp from the wineskin and wriggled about, trying to get comfortable against the cold stone.

It was a few hours until dawn, and Merlin had only recently finished his chores. Feeling mutinous, he'd snuck one of the furs from Arthur's wardrobe and a full wineskin and declared himself a holiday. He'd come up here, to the highest wall-walk of the castle, where hopefully no one would come looking for him.

He just wanted a chance to be alone, to clear his head, to relish the feeling of something soft against his skin and warm in his belly, to have a wank, for fuck's sake, to…

The light woke Merlin. He groaned and rolled over. He felt bruised and sticky.

"Morning, Merlin."

Merlin started and looked around. What he saw took his breath away.

Arthur was standing against the battlements with his back to Merlin, looking down over the town through one of the gaps in the crenellated masonry. He was clad only in his nightshirt, the well-worn one he favored during the warm months. His feet were bare, his legs were spread apart, and the morning light easily pierced the thin cloth.

Merlin could see every line, every curve, every _bulge._ He swallowed.

Arthur looked back over his shoulder. His face was relaxed, open and boyish as it had not been in some time. "Come here, Merlin. I want to show you something."

And Merlin didn't know what possessed him (later he'd claim it was sheer laziness), but instead of standing and walking the few feet over to where Arthur stood, he hoiked the fur up around his shoulders and crawled.

When Arthur's feet were within grasp, he sank back on his heels and looked up. 

He heard a strangled sound.

"What is it, sire?" he said, fairly certain that nothing Arthur had to show him could possibly be more interesting than the bulge of his calves, the taut planes of his thighs, the delicious swell of his rump. He'd missed that rump of late, hadn't got to spend nearly as much time as he would have liked – 

"Merlin!"

"Mmm?"

"What are you doing?"

Merlin froze, his face a mere inch away from pillowing itself on Arthur's behind. He was rubbing one corner of the fur against Arthur's bare ankle. 

"Oh, you… um, you looked cold, sire." Merlin unwound the fur from around his shoulders and began rubbing it up the backs of Arthur's legs. "Very cold. Might catch a chill. I think I should warm you up."

"Merlin, stand up," Arthur said breathlessly. "Stand up _now."_

He tried, but his legs were cramped from the night air and he sort of fell against Arthur in the process, shoving him up against the wall. The fur was caught between them.

"Ugh. You clumsy – here, give me that," Arthur ground out, pushing back, reaching around and yanking the fur from between them.

"But – "

"Hush," Arthur said. He draped the fur over the wall in front of him, running his fingers down it in proprietary fashion. 

"You nicked this from my wardrobe last night, didn't you?" He turned and hauled Merlin in by his neckerchief, gave him a surprisingly gentle kiss, then crushed his mouth to Merlin's ear and whispered, "Probably rubbed yourself off in it too, didn't you? Or on it, you depraved creature. So just what am I supposed to do with it now?"

Now it was Merlin's turn to make inarticulate noises. His trousers itched and pulled in all the right places and the blood was pounding in his veins. Arthur knew what it did to him when he spoke filth into his ear like that. He _knew_ Merlin couldn’t be held responsible for what happened next.

Merlin shoved Arthur away, turning him back around, lifting his nightshirt and pressing him against the fur by his shoulder blades. Arthur's breath came out in a harsh grunt, but he spread his legs and went very still.

Merlin stood for a moment, trying to get his breathing under control. Then, slowly, he crowded up behind him, watching as the bulge of his cloth-covered erection made contact and slid against the plump muscle of Arthur's backside.

He rocked his hips with just enough pressure to tease himself and torture Arthur, too-shallow thrusts that were several inches to the right of where he wanted them to be. 

Arthur squirmed, trying to swivel his hips, but Merlin leaned all his body weight in and pressed him flush against the wall. 

Arthur reacted instantly to the new stimulus. He ground against the fur, burying his face in it and taking gasping, open-mouthed breaths.

Merlin eased off and just watched for a moment, awestruck. Arthur made quite a picture with his nightshirt gathered up over his hips, rutting against the fur-clad wall as the sun sailed fully over the horizon.

But soon Arthur reached back, blindly scrabbling for any bit of Merlin he could lay his hands on. He pulled him in, saying something that was muffled by the fur.

"What was that?" 

Arthur gripped the top of the wall, turned his head to the side. "I said bloody well get on with it, Merlin. The guard will be out on the lower battlements any moment."

Merlin shifted, lining his crotch up with the cleft of Arthur's arse. But still he held back.

"So?"

"So they might look _up,_ is what."

"Mmm, I don' t think they could really see much, do you?" Merlin said, then drove his hips forward, earning a grunt from Arthur. "But in that case I'll keep my trousers on."

_"Merlin."_

"Hush, now," Merlin murmured, picking up the pace. "Wouldn't want to alert the guard."

"Your… ungh. Your trousers."

"Hmm?" Merlin leaned his forehead against Arthur's broad back, gripped the sides of his buttocks and squeezed them together as he surged forward, trapping his cock between them.

"Rough," Arthur panted.

"Then get me." Merlin punctuated each word with a thrust. "Finer. Trousers. Sire." 

Then Merlin set a brutal pace, humping up and into the crease of Arthur's arse, the momentum driving Arthur's hips into the wall in front of him. 

Somewhere far down below, a cock crowed. Then another. The citizens of Camelot began to emerge from their dwellings, carrying pails to the well or goods to the market stalls. Cart wheels creaked. Horse hooves clattered over the cobbles. Porridge-scented steam wafted up from open windows.

Sweat began to run down Arthur's neck.

When Merlin felt his release building, he slowed his pace. He released Arthur's rump and snaked his hands around the front of Arthur's thighs. He pulled him back, away from the wall, and held him still. 

"What was it you – ah – wanted to show me, sire?" He rubbed his nose against the back of Arthur's neck, lapped at the salty skin there.

"K-kingdom," Arthur stuttered, straining against Merlin's hands. 

Merlin kept a firm grip on Arthur's thighs and leaned sideways, peering down through the gap. As he returned to his original position he caught a glimpse of Arthur's thick, red, jutting cock, the slick tip of it just barely grazing the dark fur. 

"Our kingdom, Merlin. What we've," Arthur let go of the wall and placed his hands over Merlin's, giving up on forward motion and instead easing himself up and down on the balls of his feet, "all been working so bloody _hard_ for, ah, fuck!"

And then Arthur was spattering the fur with thick white fluid, a few gobs dripping to the stone below. 

Merlin closed his eyes and let the twitching and clenching of Arthur's muscles carry him over, his own seed spilling hot and sticky in his trousers. 

Merlin collapsed, sprawling onto his backside, trying to catch his breath. Arthur wasn't much better off. He slumped against the wall, one hand fisted in the come-stained fur. He tugged his nightshirt down, but Merlin could still see through it, especially in the damp patches where it clung to his skin.

"It's a nice view," Merlin panted.

"What?" Arthur gasped.

"Of the kingdom, sire. From up here."

* * *


End file.
